Harrypottysses
by Phantom Ovaries
Summary: What would happen if James Joyce wrote a Harry Potter book?  It would probably look something like this.


**HARRYPOTTYSSES**

**a parody**

**[being an excerpt from the forthcoming Harry Potter novel, as written by Mr. James Joyce]**

STATELY, PUBESCENT, HARRY POTTER CAME DOWN THE REVOLVING STAIRHEAD, bearing a miniature pensieve on which a wand and an enchanting charm lay crosssed. He held aloft the pensieve and intoned:

- Specialis Revelio!

Irradiant light bounced down the stairhead and haloed Harry's head in a tenuous and lugubrious membrane, giving the faint but altogether false impression of a gloriously glabruous scalp. Your wand perhaps but what to do when we're caught a-sorting this a-that a-this a-that. Solemnly Harry Potter bent down. Feels Prince Hamlet and the winding pulp grinding grinding grinding. Poleaxe makes skulls open. Sinister rouge waxey-dax. But then Circes spent the night weeping for all those sad, sad sailors. Those stories were the favorites of lonesome Muggles and Harry, so spent! so pale & wan! craned his arm in a sad and furious cross. Her hair glittering in the Southern Cross. Yes I. Yes I. And also I. Eat Cantaloupe. Arrrrrriba! Cha-cha-cha!

- Come up, Hermione Granger. O, dear Hermione, the mockery of it. Your absurd name, an ancient Greek.

Solemnly she came forward, swerving around the bend of the stairhead, the chrysanthemums in her hair alight against the luminosity of a latently lascivious lumos that bent and swerved into the shape of a broken crucifix. Palefaced Harry: scarred forehead and a thousand centipedes for fingers: fine that's it rub it that way, not this. Damn it, Harry, you'll never learn how to file your income taxes as Hogwarts continues to under-fund its economics department. O, iiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaarch! Moonkiller combusts into flames and Dumbledore dances with Dementors, light, life, and sing the saddest songs in the world for Hogwarts. Hermione trampled slowly up the stairhead and toward her commodious classroom while singing a song under her breath:

Whoooa, here she comes,

Look out boys, she'll chew you up!

Whoooa, here she comes,

She's a MAN-EATER!

Behind her, Crookshanks slinked stiffly round the bend of the marble pillar and said:

- Mkgnao!

Hermione raised herself next to the jingling chandelier levitating overhead, her knees bent and buckled while Harry stared sadly at her. A torn letter and its contents: Hello: resurrection of Dark Lord: growing hair in funny places: motocross roller derbies: coffee colored kidney pie: dysentery: signed, Ron Weasley. Protons danced. Sex breaking out in the wildfire of Weasley's wheezing loins. O, Hyperion, how you laugh at length at the confessional crossed and crumbling round the neck of the noose. The developing shegoat's udder making magic of Harry's trousers. Geld me like a broken blossom. Do you take your coffee dark or milky white? OooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooooo, woopwoop, fffffffffff! Too legit too legit to quit hey hey. Prince Hamlet cuckholded by the reverberations of Shakespeare's fingers. I tell you, Hamlet and Harry both start with the letter 'H' and riverrun past that, you bodaciously backhanded blackguard.

Flewpowder by broomhandle fly past the gooriodio remmydingdong

Inkidinkidoodadey thagfigfn

Mmmbop ba duba dop ba do bop

Clatto Verata Nicto

Begin!

SAPHISM, SAYS THE SLUMPING BYZANTINE,

IS THE LEADING SOURCE OF TOOTH DECAY, MELICIOUSLY

MOUNTED MERITOCRACY IN HOGGIE-WARTS, SNAPE'S BIG SCHNOZ

O, and how Voldemort would laugh at the puny kid with the sunburned arms. Hermione scanned the screen. He put it. Into her. Or maybe he didn't. Is anybody even following me at this point?

- O, Harry, what an opportune occasion! Might you have any red jellybeans?

- Ah, no.

- Fiddlesticks.

Cuckoo.

Cuckoo.

Cuckoo.

HER-MAN-IONE: (Promptly, in thick baritone voice.) Enchanted chocolate frog aphrodisiac. Lick the lard off my little lamblegs, lonely lady. Kneel down! Bark! Direct thine eyes squarely upon this rapacious rump and make like Eazy-E: grab it like a rabbit: throbbit like a hobbit.

POTTER: (His retinas grow rotund.) As long as I don't have to eat poop after this.

(With an elliptical, gurgling groan, she slinks to the floor, writhing on her belly, grunting, galumphing, rooting into the dark pockets of the Great Hall, sterile eyeballs snapping, crackling, popping, bowing under the thick leathersoled bootheel.)

HER-MAN-IONE: (Laughs.) Bow, geldslave scally-wag! I'll tar, feather, and sodomize you in no particular order, and then I'll turn this whole thing into an extended episode of Matlock, sans the geriatrics. Sniff my goatfarts! Bite my broomhandle!

POTTER: (Galloping on all fours.) Oinkoinkoinkoink.

What hermetic hero howitzered Hogwarts and repressed the ingress?

Translocated leviosa left this colonial Union Jack flapping its farts blowing out the light from a candlestick: a Horcrux is a Horcrux: how sensational to see Sirius Black bouncing with the pregnant aplomb of Puccini's piano concerto: unreflecting lizardlungs incuneated in toadstool teabiscuits: when will our syllabi succumb to the Rowling equation instead of listing those white colonial assholes the canon says we should read: equine earthquakes quake when horses' hooves hobble down Prof. Hornbuckle's housebox: Hagrid smells like poopoo and nobody's brave enough to tell him.

Yes because that night in Gibraltar amounted to this decadent ffffffffreeeeeeferallll his pubescent percolator pecking at me when the lights left and I said I suppose Ill just resign myself to selling sexuality to the pedophile subculture the fourteenyearold fumblings that make the raincoat crowd a little redeyed yes O I think he made them a little firmer a little hard but Ill not blame myself I never baked brownies before the batter prepackaged in a box damn muggles and their white powder preservatives but thats not here nor there when Weasley wheezed his way to my bedroom Ill say 2 in the morning my veins felt funny because the burns on his bottom from his runin with Severus Snape just made me laugh and even though I knew it would break Harrys heart I took Ron with me and the next day he sent me a letter with x o x o x o x o written on the envelope which just looked like the laziest game of tictactoe Id ever seen yes yes Ill yes Ill by God mend Harrys quidditch uniforms I thought when I pranced down the queer little streets where Deatheaters disco dance nightly yes yes Gibraltar that's good enough to get me by but then 1 2 3 4 5 this is how you count Harry O rhoanandanananana and other such nonsense I guess Ill sew the buttons on your battered dressrobes too Harry dont get sassy with me or else I wont say yes I will say yes I will Yes.


End file.
